Perditoris: A living mountain of muscle and scaly hide, this beast walks the earth on four powerful legs, and where he walks there is nothing left but devastation. From nose to tail he stretches well over a thousand feet. His mighty wings span twice that, and were he inclined, he could step over a ten story building with room to spare. Viewed from a distance the dragon is a thing of beauty, his body clad in scaly armor the color of a pine forest, the muscles beneath powerful yet lithe and athletic. When viewed from nearby his appearance does not matter. If you are seeing him from close by, you are not likely to live long enough to describe him to anyone.

The city of choice was Chicago, a broad orban area, with old world history and modern, gleeming skyscrapers. The populate, a few million give or take, would assume that this day in the windy city would be as normal as the last. But, unknown to them, they've become the target of a sinister dragon who dispises humans; their cities and their ways. It was early in the day, people still driving to work, freeways packed with cars and the city bustling with activity.

Perditoris circles high above, the dragon skirting the very highest reaches of the atmosphere, carried aloft on wings the size of city blocks. From this height he can see nothing of humanity or its works -- that is, almost nothing. A blot on the landscape at the edge of a lake, their waste fouling its waters. Ordinarily the beast would pay no attention to something as puny and inconsequential as Man, but the insect's hubris annoys him. He dips a wing, banking and starting a long, slow spiral downward.

The population below had no idea of the coming personal apocolypse for them; the only humans who knew of the decending dragon were those in aircraft, and those were few and far between. But, on his decent, the dragon did run across a few jumbo jets packed with people. Those metal monstrocities, spreading their excaust across the skys and ferying those distrctive little insects called man across the globe. There was no doubt that any aircraft would be destroyed, utterly, by the dragon. But how he chose how? That was up to him. The polit of a particular aircraft, a jumbo 747 was flying though sole cloud cover when suddenly, the titanic-sized dragon's body came into view. Shocked, he didn't even slow the plane down or even move, it kept on flying strait for the dragon. The stunned polit picks his radio up, and with a horse voice he sputters something about a winged beast

Perditoris glances at the approaching jet as one might view an annoying fly. As their paths cross he simply sweeps a mighty hand and plucks the jet from the air. He brings it to his eye for only a momentary scrutiny before he crushes it like a soda can in his fist and tosses it aside. He continues his descent, tail swatting a news helicopter from the air as his shadow looms over the buildings below. He drops lower, sweeping over the man-made canyons below, the blast of his wings shattering windows and sending vehicles tumbling. His reptilian features betray no emotion, save for his eyes, which are filled with an unmistakable contempt.

The pilots and passangers on the jet scream in horror, the act of crushing the winged tin can causes it to burst into flame, more or less signaling the dragon's coming. The population below stood, frozen with wonder, fear, or horror as the winged beast flew overhead, hurricane force winds blowing past the people below, sending them scattering across the ground. His ears were soon assaulted by the high-pitched screams of men and women as the humans below started to snap out of their frozen stuper. The dragon was above the residental section of the city, brick building lined the streets; houses and small shops packed with people who were doing their daily chores. Buildings that were over 100 years old stood there, decorated in pretty brick and granite designed; a monument to humanity's vanity and need to make their structures beautiful.

Perditoris cares not for the works of man, nor for the pride they are intended to convey. To him they are nothing more than anthills, and those who built them merely ants. He backwings as his shadow stretches over a neighborhood that is being blown apart by the hurricane winds, and then drops to a landing. All four feet crash down to the ground, houses and their occupants disintegrating beneath the unimaginable tonnage. The dragon snaps his wings against his sides then pauses to stretch, arching his back like an enormous cat, and then he begins walking, a slow, leisurely pace toward the taller buildings, his feet pounding the earth beneath him into mud from the impacts.

People are blown back simply by the dragon's landing, many of them killed, crushed or maimed by his feet as they crash to earth. The brick building crumble like sand, crumbling down into nothing more then piles of wood, brick and other items that were inside. Below him a virtual sea of people ran, flowing around cars and buildings like water. With each step he took another 'chunk' out of this river, a sounds of screams cut short, bones snapping and bodies exploding under the dragon's soles a constant. If he looked down he could see the faces of all those insects looking back up, white with terror. Some people dropped to their kneed, insulting the godly dragon by actually begging for their lifes, some even try to offer material things! Shallow, destructive creates humans are.

Perditoris does not look down. He ignores the pathetic beings who are being crushed by the hundreds beneath his tread and simply continues his relentless march into the city. With each step his claws sweep through houses, vaporizing them, before coming down and flattening anything and anyone beneath them. Cars, houses, trees, and people are pressed into the earth, the dragon seemingly unaware of them. Behind him he leaves deep prints filled with wreckage and metal and what is left of humanity, all as flat as foil. As he advances the buildings become taller, his forelegs knocking them aside, and then taller still, his chest crashing into them and toppling them before his advance.

As the buildings grew around him, so did the amout of people. They were like mice, knock over one building and thousands of them seem to pour out, clogging the streets and only adding to a red smear in the dragon's footprints behind him. The buildings were no longer brick and morder, instead made of steel, glass and concrete. He could peer into the taller ones and see people scurying around inside like ants. A few humans, either brave or incredibly stupid, had climbed up onto nearby buildings, video camera in hand as they filmed the godzilla-esque destruction before them. Ahead of the dragon was the Sears Tower, a black monstrocity desicrating the landscape and view for miles. That would be the most obvious goal. By now the military had been alearted and had been scrambling jets, tanks and troops to combat the beast; not that he cares.

Perditoris continues his relentless advance on the tower, carving a long, perfectly straight trail of destruction through the city. He reaches the glass monstrosity and peers up at it. Slowly he pushes off on his forelegs and rises up to a bipedal stance. He eyes the building, bringing his muzzle close enough to it that he can peer at the miniscule shapes moving around within. Then with a curl of his lip he draws back a huge fist and slams it into the tower, his fist plunging deep into its interior. He gropes about, and then sweeps his arm to the side, tearing out much of the supporting beams. The tower stands, shaking, for another few seconds before the dragon plows his entire colossal body into it, finally toppling it. He lands back to all fours as the concrete and steel comes cascading down, and then simply continues walking, shouldering aside buildings as he goes. Then he pauses, tilting his head, and peers down into one of the teeming streets. For the first time he seems to notice the scurrying humanity clogging the avenue and his eyes narrow. As if curious, he lowers his head further until his muzzle hovers just over their heads, and sniffs.

The shadow of the tower shifts across the landscape as it falls, groans of steel and cracks of glass ringing out as the towering monument to humanity falls to it's death. For blocks, people do their best to run, but it's impossible to avoid. The once proud sears tower crashes into the ground, taking with it hundreds, of not thousands, of lifes and dozens of buildings. Clouds of smoke billows up, wafting in the wind and rolling past the dragon's chest. As the dragon leans down to inspect the people below, he saw their true disgusting ways. As the people ran, he saw a man, perfectly able to run away, grab a young women and toss her infront of him, as to distract the monster! Disgusting, shameless bugs, they'll forcefully sacrifice a poor woman just for another day to keep breathing

Perditoris barely notices the act. He studies the swarming insects for a few moments, his gaze dispassionate. At length he raises his head a few dozen meters. His lips part. A long, black tongue slides forth, landing in the thick of the crowd and writhing like a glistening snake. Wherever it touches a fleeing figure the victim sticks fast, and within seconds the dreadful tongue is coated with writhing, shrieking humanity, some plastered to it by their entire bodies, others hanging from an arm or a leg. His jaws open further and the tongue is reeled in, dragging a thousand or more helpless citizens with it into the darkness past the dragon's teeth. Those teeth then close behind them, muffling their screams to silence in an instant. Once inside the dragon's saliva releases the adhesion and the victims slip off and pile up in his mouth. He raises his head fully, aiming his nose at the sky, and with a thrust of his head and a snap of his jaws he swallows, gulping them down alive and screaming, the way a seabird swallows a fish.

The screams of humans get a wet muffled sound as the tongue slides down. Some get completely glued to it, struggling fruitlessly against the sticky organ as it slides down. Others only get caught by a leg, dragged up fighing and screaming for help. Dragging the mass of squirming bugs into his jaws, the dragon could feel the mass of them squirm against his gums, kicking and fighting and screaming. Swallowing, the struggled did not cease; the almost tickling sensation of the humans in his throat sliding all the way down to his waiting gullet. Though, a few people were a little smarter than to just kick and scream, one or two of them wedged themselves inbetween his teeth, holding on so they didn't fall into the black abyss of the dragon's throat!

Perditoris ignores those who remain behind in his mouth -- after all, one can never eat a meal without getting a few morsels caught between one's teeth. He lowers his head once again, nose descending toward the crowd, his cold, reptilian eyes studying them as they try to flee. Again his jaws part. Those clinging to his teeth are treated to a ghastly scene as the great tongue thrusts forth past them, landing in the midst of the crowd and rolling this way and that, its black surface vanishing beneath a near-complete coating of human meat. Like the others they are dragged into the cavernous maw, and as the light is cut off they are released and tumble about in a great writhing mass. Gravity shifts as the dragon's head rises, and that mass of human beings falls toward the dragon's waiting throat. His gullet opens wide to receive them and then clenches behind, powerful muscles bearing them down and down and down, until they are spat out into the rank blackness of the monster's stomach, to join the hundreds already struggling within.

The horrible feeding continues, people trapped to the dragon's tongue, crushed to death under it and hauled up into his awaiting jaws to be feed upon. The dragon could very well spend all day feeding on the flesh of the humans; people were't very filling! But something disturbed his snack; what could best be described as a grain of rice bouncing off of his muscular hind leg. He might not have noticed it it wasn't for the thundering explosion with it, a tank had just fired the first shot! It did nothing to physicaly harm the dragon, but annoyed him greatly! About 10 tanks and a few hundred soldiers were lined up behind him, taking potshots at him with rifles, tanks and a variety of other firearms. It was equivilant to throwing rocks at the dragon

Perditoris slowly swings his head back and eyes the little tanks for a moment. Then, disdainfully, he swings his head back and dips it down, licking up another mouthful of humanity while the military fires round after round against him. The shells impact against his armored hide like raindrops, with nary a twitch to indicate that the dragon even feels them. He raises his head more slowly this time, savoring the taste and the struggles as he swallows his latest victims, before turning slowly around. He moves forward, the shells impacting his immense chest now, and then with uncharacteristic care he steps *over* the line of tanks with first one forefoot, and then the other. Here he stands, allowing them to pummel his underbelly with all the ordnance they can throw. His eyes half-lid, as though the attack were actually a pleasing caress to him. Still, the affront cannot be permitted to stand. Between the dragon's hind legs a bulge appears; the scales part to reveal an immense, black penis. It descends a dozen meters or so, clearly only a fraction of its length, and as its bulbous tip hangs weightily over the tanks it suddenly releases a violent stream of urine which batters down on the army with the force of a hundred waterfalls.

The tanks and hundreds of uniformed soldiers continue the fruitless bombardment, though any shot just bounced clean off the dragon's scales It felt more like a light volley of rain to him, though with none of the coolness or wetness of it. With the totanic dragon above, the soldiers spot the massive black organs, and with the word decision yet they begin to shoot at it, thinking it of a weak spot. This only multiplyed the problem for them, now the dragon's shaft being tickled and teased until it flooded the streets below. The constant tapping of shots immediatly stops, the sheer volume of liquid flowing though the streets like a river, upturning the tanks and pushing the now screaming soldiers down the 'river'. Many of the soldiers down, pushed by the turbulent urine or crushed beneath a tank that had overturned. In one of the most humiliating ways possible, a fighting force nearing a thousand was reduced to a soaked mess of soldiers that were now fleeing like every other person! Off in the distance, the screech of fighter jets could be heard; seems like reenforcements are arriving

Perditoris shakes his head with a snort. Perhaps if they had remained meekly in their place he would have eaten his fill and left, but the insult annoys him. He rises up tall onto his hind legs once again, towering over the city. His jaws open wide. Heat ripples in the air ahead of them, and a blast of fire rockets forth, crashing down into the city below and instantly setting it ablaze. He sweeps his head in a long line from right to left, cutting a straight line of fire through the city. He watches it burn, reflected flames dancing on his slitted eyes, and then he opens his mouth again and lights a huge semicircle. Then with a powerful leap he climbs into the air, swoops a mile or so away, and lands on all fours with a crash. Now he begins another slow march, his legs smashing aside buildings block by block, but much slower than before. It is almost a stroll, a wander, and the dragon stops frequently. Who on the ground could see what he was doing, but perhaps the jets can. The flames form a fiery enclosure at the center of which is a broad, open park, and as the dragon advances slowly toward it, waves of humanity are fleeing ahead of him, straight into the trap.

Any living person or thing in the path of the firey breath would be instantly cooked, or to be more accurate burned to a crisp and vaproized. People burned to ask before they could hit the ground, trees set ablaze and buildings litterly exploding out in the firey breath. Thick, black smoke billowed out, the smell of charded flesh now potent as the dragon cooks several city blocks with just the turn of his head. The humans below who weren't cooked or crushed fled to the part ahead, amassing there like the cattle they are. Dumb creatures, humans are. In a group you could practiclly get them to run strait off a cliff by just moving them towards it. The jets now screamed overhead, sonic booms rocking the city around as they flew past. His plan was working beautifully, more humans that he could imagine were teeming into the streets and running right into the park, where they were open, exposed and ripe for the picking. The jets above didn't even fire at the dragon, seems the military had abandoned the city and it's people, the jets main purpous was to observ the dragon's slaughter

Perditoris pays no more attention to the jets that he would to harmless gnats. He continues to move forward, taking his time, watching in satisfaction as the crowd surges into the park and then finds that there is nowhere to go. And there is no going back, with new refugees rushing in behind them. The park fills steadily, as a bucket fills with water. At last Perditoris pushes past the last obstacle, a shoulder-high hotel that his chest simply collapses as he walks over it. He pauses there, gazing coldly down at the mass of humanity lying like a living carpet beneath him, and just like a carpet he steps forward, trampling on them as he moves into the park. His tail swats a tall bank building as he passes, the structure falling sideways and sealing the trap behind him with a mountain of rubble. Lowering his head and turning it he peers back at the thousands trapped beneath him, framed between his immense hind feet that are resting on thousands more.

With one last smash, the entrence to the park was sealed off. All those humans, all those faces looking up at him. There had to be hundreds of thousands of people there; and they were all his! His to command, to crush, to eat, to cook; he could do whatever he wanted, even moreso without the pesky military bothing him like ants. With each footfall, the sounds of snapping bones and squishing bodies filled the air, blood and guts bubbling up from around his feet. The carpet of humans made little circles around his feet, trying to get away and move; but there was no place to run! they were packed in to the brim and at the mercy of the dragon

Perditoris curls his lip in a snarl -- or is it a sneer? -- and begins to lower his haunches slowly. The tip of his gargantuan penis still dangles from the slit, while behind it the scales bulge further softening, allowing two colossal testicles -- held within his body for streamlined flight -- to drop into the sac formed by the scaly flesh. He lowers his hindquarters further, watching intently as the tip of his swaying member begins to batter people about, in a classic display of draconic dominance. Above them stretches his underbelly, and beyond that are trapped thousands of still-living citizens, slowly digesting, becoming part of the dragon-god's body.

A flury of hands reach up, not exactly to worship the massive black penis above but more in a desperate attempt to save themselves! The dragon felt so many tiny hands and bodies push against his organ, pushing and squirming and even beating against the meaty organ above. Their screams grew louder as he got closer to crushing them, the people around still desperateying trying to get away; crawling over eachother and packing int even tighter!

Perditoris watches all of this with a cold, scornful eye. He toys with them a little, letting his hindquarters sway to one side so that he immense penis bashes through the crowd, and then he simply sits on them. A contented rumble rises from deep in his chest as the huge ballsac lands and rolls over the retreating figures, and then the rest vanish beneath his haunch. He rests there a moment, rumbling -- purring! -- and then raises up slightly. Mashed flesh coats the underside of his haunches, and the dragon reveals that the flaccid member has now become quite hard. It juts forth from beneath the dragon's belly, forming a unit along with the great testicles. With one great foreclaw the dragon scoops a shovelful of humanity beneath himself, and then sits on the fresh victims, his shaft slamming down upon them. With a low groan he begins to hump against the ground, smearing them to nothingness beneath the bulk of his malehood.

Scores of people find themselves under the dragon's rear, but not living for long as they get mashed into what would be a bloody paste. With each sway, the titanic, black organ sends a few people flying off, or just grinds them against the dirt as it slides by. With a heavy thundering thump as the dragon sits, even more are added to the crushed mess under his hunches, several more dozen trapped under his scaled sac. The humans below have little time to react as the black shaft swings down, slamming right into the thickest part of the crowd and soon grinding against the ground, crushing and smearing bodies until they were no more than a bloody lubricant for the dragon

Perditoris grinds his haunches to and fro, the tip of his tongue rolling out from between his lips in horrific bliss. The ground rocks and groans as he pleasures himself against it, until he pushes himself up again and with a foreclaw he once more scoops fresh humanity beneath his member, then settles it atop them and reduces them to mush for his pleasure.

The ranks of the humans dwindles down quickly; what was oncea park teeming with a carpet of humans is soon reduced to a bloody wasteland, bits and parts of humans littering the ground, blood soaking the once green earth and a deep trech forming where the dragon grinds his penis. With each fresh human adds another splotch of fresh, warm blood and the sensation of bodies popping under his penis; remains of humans stuck to the dragon's length and tip, plastered on with a bloody mess.

Perditoris repeats the ghastly slaughter again and again, reducing the population of the park by half, until finally he grunts and then roars. A blast of thick white cream erupts from beneath his hindquarters, shooting forth and cutting down anyone cowering in its path. Those who are not torn apart by the impact are left squirming feebly beneath tons of semen, mired like bugs in amber, slowly smothering. The dragon sighs and licks his lips, and then presses up first to all fours, and then rises to his hind legs, his long tail swinging out behind himself for balance, human remains dripping along with the remnants of his pleasure from his gargantuan erection. He peers down at the survivors almost thoughtfully, and then he lifts one immense hind foot. It swings over the thickest part of the remaining crowd, hovers ominously for a brief second, and then settles down heavily upon them. **BOOM**

Any human left alive had gone to cower in one corner of the park, maybe a hundred of so still breating after that relentless slaughter for bliss. As his sole raises above them, the remaining humans don't utter a peep. No screams, no begs, no crying. They just look up at the immence sole dotted with red smears and remains of humans, stairing up at the godly beast before them before, in one quick motion, their lifes were ended with a satisfying crunch. Anyone not caught under his sole was blasted back by the sheer force of the stomp, most likely killed by it. Even after that, there may be one or two humans left alive; but is the dragon really going to waste his time on them?

Perditoris does not bother indeed. He has made his point. Bending his legs, he launches himself skyward and with a powerful beat of his wings ascends into the stratosphere, leaving behind a city in flames, with much of its population either mashed to nothingness in his footprints or gradually dissolving in his stomach as he carries them off.